


White Out

by im_defective



Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-19
Updated: 2011-07-19
Packaged: 2017-10-21 13:07:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/225525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/im_defective/pseuds/im_defective
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Frank watches Gerard play in the snow.</p>
            </blockquote>





	White Out

**Author's Note:**

> Written about six years ago, so think Revenge era. I was 18 when I wrote this, under a different pen name on two other sites. "Drowning Lessons" and "I'm Defective". Also posted on LJ as "Defect_no9"

   Gazing out my window, I followed the path that the snow made as it fell silently to the ground. I imagined each one was a moment in my life. They landed softly as they absorbed the New Jersey grime. I heard the front door open. Like poetry, his form slid against the white background. Twirling around his front yard, his scarf played on the wind. I painted the image on the back of my eyelids. He fell on his back to make a snow angel. His colors stood out against the crystallized world; a smear of red and black on pure white.

 

   Soon his brother joined him, and together they had a rather entertaining snow ball fight. They became camouflaged as they pelted each other relentlessly. I watched him double over in hysterics as his brother ran away to wipe his glasses. It was then that he looked up at me. I’ve never seen him look so young, so unadulterated, so simplistic. The snow washed away his make-up, leaving him flushed and glowing. Just like Jersey, it seems as if the snow washed away years of grime and abuse.

 

   I made the decision to put on my jacket. The wind was soft, and coldly caressed my spine. He was hunched over perfecting his snowman. The flakes seemed to dance in his hair, and laughter pulsated behind his eyes. I stood there dumbfounded, until he threw a snowball at me. Fifteen minutes, and three snowball fights later, he turned to go inside. I knew I needed to say something _now_. I needed to pry my heart out of rejection’s cold, dead hands.

   I called his name, and he turned back to face me. Fear froze me solid, but determination managed to move my feet. He was surprised when I tackled him down. His lips and cheeks were red from the cold, as he searched deep into my eyes. I mentally fumbled my words. His eyes gave me the simplicity of understanding. I knew those words then. They didn’t feel like bile as they had so many times before.

   They felt---beautiful.

 

   “I need you.”

 

   Entwining my hands into his hair, he cupped my face with both of his hands. His eyes fluttered shut as my own vision blackened under my eyelashes. His lips were warm and inviting in this wintry world. When I pulled away, he was smiling. The flakes that landed on his face lent him their sparkle. I helped him up and wrapped him in an embrace. We stayed like that for a long while, frozen in that moment, slow dancing to the sound of snow. 


End file.
